


Connected

by Useless19



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Size Difference, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:33:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless19/pseuds/Useless19
Summary: Optimus has had plenty of fun with Megatron's spike before, but this is the first time Megatron’s been on the other end.





	Connected

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Context Clues](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7846318) by [zuzeca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzeca/pseuds/zuzeca). 



> This probably won't make much sense without reading Context Clues first, so I'd definitely recommend doing that.
> 
> The tl;dr is that Optimus happened across Megatron's dismembered spike and, lacking any other interfacing toys, used it for 'stress relief'. He later realises exactly whose equipment he's been using shortly after Megatron's reassembly.
> 
> Now with translation into Chinese: [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19317607)

The problem with the Autobots and Decepticons having to work together to defeat an external enemy, was that the Autobots and Decepticons _had to work together_ and Optimus had, for some reason, been put in charge of acting as a buffer between the rest of the Autobots and the Decepticon high command.

He'd put his all into it of course, but he felt like there must have been someone else — _anyone_ else — who could do it better.

And yet, somewhere between the third strategy meeting — in which Megatron had gleefully shredded Optimus's carefully constructed plan to pieces, only to turn to Strika for her plan and discover that it was broadly the same as Optimus's, with only minor variations that wouldn't address any of Megatron's criticisms — and the sixth — in which Optimus had managed to be polite when pointing out the lack of support for civilians and Megatron had given Optimus permission to alter his plan with only a little sneering about Autobot sensibilities — they had started to actually work together and turned out to be ridiculously effective when they didn't spend entire days sniping at each other over every last detail.

Then, the night before the eighth scheduled strategy meeting, Megatron had knocked on the door of Optimus's habsuite with a datapad of the latest intel, a suggestion that they try coming up with a plan together from the start, and a bottle of expensive oil that Optimus could never have afforded on a space bridge technician's pay. Optimus invited him in — with a healthy amount of trepidation — but they had spent a good while building up a working plan over the oil.

Which had somehow ended up with Optimus flat on his back on his berth, and Megatron's clever mouth on his spike and three long sharp digits buried in Optimus's valve.

There was a small part of Optimus's processor that was insisting that this was a bad idea — it was _Megatron_ — but that was easily drowned out by Megatron sucking in a certain way and doing _something_ with his digits at the same time, which sent Optimus headfirst into overload.

It was all Optimus could do to lie there and pant while his vents tried to get rid of the excess heat.

Megatron looked smug, but at least he had a right to it this time.

“Now…” Megatron purred. He sat up and wiped Optimus's lubricant and transfluids off his mouth.

It was a move that would've stalled Optimus's intake if he hadn't been distracted by the spike, heavy and pressurised between Megatron's legs.

A very _familiar_ spike.

Oh.

Oh dear.

It was just as big and intricately ridged as he remembered, but the last time Optimus had seen it, the biolights hadn't been pulsing with charge and it definitely hadn't been _attached_ to anyone. Now all those warnings his processor had been shrieking made sense.

“Don't worry, it will fit,” Megatron said, misreading Optimus's fear.

“I know —” Optimus started, then he had to reset his vocaliser when it cut into static and by the time he'd done that, Megatron was lining up and pressing the tip of his spike into Optimus with a low moan of pleasure.

“Oh!” gasped Optimus, then, “Megatron —”

“Hmm,” Megatron rolled his hips, sinking further in, “you feel…”

“Megatron, wait —”

Megatron did stop, but it was with a frown focused on a point above Optimus's head as he searched his memory banks.

“You feel _familiar_ ,” Megatron said slowly, optics snapping back down to meet Optimus's. “Why does this feel familiar, little Prime?”

“There might have been a — in Sumdac Tower — I didn't know it was yours!” Optimus babbled.

There was a long silence, during which Optimus tried to think of a way to say 'sorry I used your disembodied spike as an interface toy — multiple times’ without spontaneously combusting. It wasn't easy under Megatron's glare.

“Do you know how often I fantasised about killing the Autobot who dared use my equipment in such a way?” Megatron said, wrapping one servo around Optimus's throat and pinning his hands above his head with the other.

“I didn't — I'm sorry —”

“Not nearly as often as I imagined showing him how a Decepticon frags.” He punctuated that with hard thrust, sinking all the way in and  filling Optimus completely.

It shouldn't have been the first thought in Optimus's mind that it felt so much better attached to a living mech.

“Ah! Megatron!”

“You were always such a _tease_ ,” Megatron was thrusting roughly now, making Optimus slide up the berth. “Gentle and slow. Such an Autobot way.”

“Yes! _Yes!_ ”

“You must have known it was a Decepticon spike,” Megatron continued, “did you picture a big strong Decepticon holding you down and having their way with you?”

“Megatron!” Optimus struggled, but Megatron's grip was too strong. Somewhere along the line, Optimus's defense protocols had been ruthlessly stomped by his pleasure ones and he was of the opinion that this was the hottest thing to have ever happened to him. “More. Please.”

“Please?” Megatron laughed. “Did you beg, Optimus Prime, when you were taking your pleasure from my spike without a care in the world?” He did a twist with his hips that made Optimus arch. “Now it's my turn to take what I want from _you_.”

Optimus's vocaliser cut off again, emitting a high-pitched whine in place of words. Megatron thrust harder, removing his servos from Optimus to better brace himself on the berth.

Charge was crackling over Optimus's entire frame. He clutched desperately to Megatron's shoulders and could only hang on for the ride. He barely had the presence of mind to open his legs further to take more of Megatron.

Megatron groaned, low and rough and _warm_ against the top of Optimus's head and that was all it took.

Optimus seized as overload took him. His valve tightened around Megatron's spike and he brought the warlord crashing with him.

It was some minutes later that Optimus came back online. Megatron was still inert on top of him, venting deeply. Optimus tried wiggling out, but Megatron was too heavy.

Eventually Megatron stirred and rolled off, making Optimus shiver as his valve was emptied of warm spike.

Optimus reset his vocaliser. It took a few attempts. It better not have been permanently damaged by what had just happened, because he was never _ever_ going to be able to explain that to Ratchet.

“I didn't know you could feel it,” Optimus said, “I really am sorry.”

Megatron waved his apology off. “I'd say I've revenged myself adequately.”

Optimus squirmed on the berth. He could still feel the echo of Megatron inside him and definitely wanted the real thing again. He shifted again and this time there was a bit more of a twinge of discomfort than he liked.

In a few hours perhaps.

“Um, maybe not?”

“Oh?” Megatron looked at Optimus with amusement clear in his optics. “You think I need to try again?”

“Well, I did use your spike more than once,” Optimus said, “So, maybe…”

Megatron laughed. He pulled Optimus close and pressed a sharp-toothed kiss to his mouth.

“We'll have to revise our strategy after tomorrow's meeting,” Megatron said, “Ideally in a place with properly-sized furniture.”

Which meant Megatron's chambers, which were in the middle of the Decepticon part of the base.

“Won't the Decepticons get suspicious?”

“Won't your Autobots?” Megatron said easily. “I meant to ask earlier: how soundproof are your walls?”

Oh dear. Bumblebee was _not_ going to be happy.

“I'm never leaving my room again,” Optimus declared, hands firmly over his face.

Megatron laughed and tucked Optimus against his side. He was warm and Optimus was exhausted, and dealing with the fallout of clanging Megatron could wait until tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's interested I made a visual novel adaptation of Spoon888's MegaStar [Close Quarters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13963140) fic. Download page here: <https://transformersvn.tumblr.com/download>


End file.
